


it's always been just him and me together

by beansandbamboo



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale is babey, F/M, Fake Marriage, First Kiss, Idiots in Love, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Mutual Pining, Post-Canon, Slow Burn, Tags to be added, Wedding, Wedding Planning, they're both so stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-07-28 02:07:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20056276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beansandbamboo/pseuds/beansandbamboo
Summary: Newt's planning on proposing to Anathema soon, so he goes to Aziraphale's shop to ask for some tips. Problem is, Aziraphale isn't married. And he doesn't tell Newt that.Or, a fake married au no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> my first good omens fic! and my second overall so please go easy on me! updates will probably be very wonky but i'll try to get them out as soon as i can!
> 
> title is from mitski's me and my husband :-)

“The shops closed!” Aziraphale called out from the backroom after hearing the door open and someone step in. 

“Uh, Mr. Fell?”

Aziraphale looked up from his newspaper and saw a nervous looking Newton.

“Yes?”

“Uh, I- I’m Newt,” he said awkwardly as he held out a hand for him to shake.

Aziraphale shook it and gave him a smile. “I know who you are, silly.”

Aziraphale let go after a second and smiled warmly. But Newt remained standing there, looking at him expectantly. 

“Can I do anything for you, Newt?” he asked after a moment.

“Oh! Yes, actually, yes. There’s- ah. I was wondering, you don’t have to of course if you don’t want to! I just thought you’d be good with these things so I wanted to ask. I- I’m, uhh…”

Aziraphale kept his smile on as he motioned for Newt to sit next to him on the sofa. “Newt, my dear boy, I understand you’re nervous but please don’t forget to _breathe_.” 

Newt shook his head and sat down. He didn’t talk for another moment, appearing to be clearing his thoughts. He seemed to calm down and Aziraphale decided to talk again.

“Alright?”

Newt nodded and muttered a sorry.

Aziraphale shook his head, “No need to apologize. Now my dear, what is it you wanted to ask me?”

“Oh yeah. Uh, so as you know, Anathema and I’ve been together for a little while now.”

“Oh yes! How are you two doing? I have to say you make a lovely couple.” Aziraphale smiled warmly. 

“We’re alright. Well, I mean, not _just_ alright. We’re better than alright. We’re very good actually.”

“That’s always good to hear.”

“Yes. I suppose so. Anyway, I wanted to ask you. I’m thinking of p- proposing soon.”

Aziraphale lit up at that? _A proposal? A wedding? Where he would surely bawl his eyes out during the vows? And dance the gavotte at the reception? Share a slice of cake with Crowley?_

“Oh, Newt! That’s absolutely wonderful! When? Where? What did you have planned? Do you need me to help with anything?” 

“Oh, I actually don’t have anything planned yet,” he looked down at his feet, slouched with his elbows resting on his knees. “That’s what I wanted to ask. How did you go about it? With Mr. Crowley?”

Aziraphale seemed to freeze. With _him_? And _Crowley_? 

“W- what do you mean?” he stammered.

“Well, assuming you were the one who proposed, what’d you do?”

“Oh,” he said blankly.

“It’s alright if you don’t want to tell me, Mr. Fell. I understand if you’d prefer to keep that between you two. I was just wondering because you two are, after all, married. So that means whatever you, or he, did, worked.

“Oh,” Aziraphale repeated. “I see.”

Aziraphale looked down at the coffee table. Newt thought that Crowley and he… we’re a _couple_? And _married_? Newt was a bright fellow, so does that mean everyone else thought they were a couple? Surely that couldn’t be right. They didn’t act like a couple. They were best friends. Who went on lunch dates. And fed the ducks at St. James Park. And went to operas together. They most certainly did _not_ act like a couple, Aziraphale decided.

“Mr. Fell?” Newt said, bringing Aziraphale back to Earth.

“Oh, sorry. I just… got lost in thought.”

Newt smiled, “That’s sweet, sir. I also do that when people ask, uh, about me and Anathema, I mean. They’ll ask how we met and I’ll kinda space out and think about how wonderful it was when we got together and all.”

Another oh.

“I apologize if I crossed any boundaries, sir. You don’t have to tell me anything. I’d be fine with just getting a few tips,” Newt offered, sounding slightly worried.

“Oh! No! No Newt. I can assure you, y- you crossed no boundaries.” Aziraphale reached out to give him a reassuring pat on the arm. 

“Well, that’s a relief.”

Aziraphale thought for a moment? He shouldn’t lie. He knows he shouldn’t, especially when it’s a lie as big as this. But poor Newton would be so embarrassed if he found out the truth. He only wanted help with coming up with a proposal. That’s it. Aziraphale would only have to come up with a story and that’s it. He wouldn’t ever have to mention it again. No, it wouldn’t go _that_ far. Aziraphale and Crowley wouldn’t have to act any different.

What could go wrong?

“I’m sorry Newt. I’ve been acting… odd. I- it’s just like you said. I was spacing out! About the whole proposal thing. With me and Crowley. And yes! I did. I did propose. I was the one who proposed. You're a smart fellow. Figuring that out on your own.” He smiled nervously and nodded. “It was also a while ago! There’s that too. I’m having trouble remembering all the details. I would never forget though! You can never forget a thing like that! It’s one of the best moments of your life. Besides the actual wedding, of course. Uh…” Aziraphale looked back at the table at his empty cup of tea. “Would you like some tea?”

“Oh, sure sir,” Newt said.

“Jolly good then. I’ll be right back.” Aziraphale got up and walked to the stairs, nearly tripping over himself.

“Okay Aziraphale,” he said as he turned on the kettle. “Think. You’ve got time to think now. When did you propose? And where?”

He thought for a moment. He could say he proposed in Paris, but that would be too cliche, wouldn’t it? Crowley had said he was always fond of Amsterdam. He liked the tulip gardens there. Yes, that would work. And he had made it clear he hated the 14th century, so that was out. No good husband would hate the century he was married in. No, they got married at some point during the late 1800s. Crowley had been asleep during most of that century, so Newt wouldn’t find any evidence of him being not married. Not that he would do that. But better safe than sorry, right? But no, that wouldn’t be right either. The tulip gardens had only been in Amsterdam for a little less than a hundred years. What was it? 1950? So he proposed in 1960? Yes, that was good. 

“I proposed in 1960 in Amsterdam,” he said aloud, liking how the words sounded. “Yes, 1960 in Amsterdam. In April. It was a lovely day.” He paused. “Well, it rained, but then it cleared up. Cause the Netherlands can be very rainy sometimes. But it was still a lovely day. We were at Keukenhof. Crowley had wanted to visit the tulip garden for a while. So I thought it’d be a perfect place to propose.”

Aziraphale nodded, content with his story. He’d make the rest up as he went. 

The kettle whistled and Aziraphale got working on the tea. Yes, this would work. 

He made his way back downstairs with two cups of tea and a tin of biscuits.

“Here we are, Newt,” he smiled as he set down the tray on the coffee table.

Newt gave a small thank you and took one of the cups.

“So, my dear boy,” Aziraphale started, “what would you like to know about the proposal?”

“As much as possible, if that’s alright with you.”  
  


Aziraphale nodded. “Oh, alright then. Um, well, I proposed a while ago. In 1960. April 1960 to be precise. It was in Amsterdam. At the tulip gardens. Crowley had said he had wanted to go there ever since they’d opened. So I thought we’d go.”  
  


“How long had you been planning that, Mr. Fell?

“Oh, um… actually, I hadn’t planned it at all. It’s just, once we were there, it seemed like the perfect opportunity. It just made sense, you know? Crowley was just so happy and we were having such a good time…” He paused. “It was perfect.” 

“It sounds lovely, sir,” Newt mirrored his smile. Aziraphale hadn’t realized he was smiling.

Huh.

“Yes, it _was _lovely. Crowley always says he would’ve said yes no matter where we were, at home, the grocery store, even in the alley behind the shop.” He chuckled. “But I know I had to do it there. We still go to those gardens. Not every year, but we try to go as often as possible. If it wasn’t a special place to him before, it certainly is now. So, what I’m trying to say, dear boy, is pick a place that Anathema likes. I can tell you love each other very much, and she’s sure to say yes, but picking a nice location makes it _that_ much more perfect.”

“Oh yes, that’s a smart idea, sir.”

“Does that give you any ideas?” Aziraphale took a sip of his tea.

“It actually does! There’s this one field right outside of Tadfield that Anathema loves. She always goes there for her occult things. We’ve gone a few times together for picnics and such. Do you think that’d be a good place?”

“That sounds perfect, Newt.”

Newt grinned at that.

“And! Don’t stress over it! As I said, she’s sure to like it. Don’t get yourself all worked up over nothing. Everything will work out wonderfully.” Aziraphale gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Now, do you need anything else?”

“If I’m being honest, I think that’ll be enough. Thank you so much, sir.” Newt set down his empty cup on the coffee table and got up. “And, uh, thanks for the tea.”

Aziraphale smiled at him, “Of course. Do let me know if you need any more help!”

“Will do, Mr. Fell.”

And with that, Newt left the shop and Aziraphale was alone with his newspaper.

_See? _ He thought, _Everything went perfectly fine._

And yes, things at the shop did indeed go perfectly fine, but in about half an hour Newt would reach an apartment in Mayfair, and things would no longer be perfectly fine.


	2. Chapter 2

Aziraphale thought that would be the end of it. He had made up a proposal story for Newt, who’d said that was all he needed.

Newt might’ve lied.

Well, he didn’t exactly lie. That  _ was _ all he needed, at least from Aziraphale.

And right now he was sitting on a very uncomfortable couch in a stylish apartment in Mayfair, waiting for Mr. Crowley to finish making a phone call.

-

Aziraphale was finishing up his newspaper when the phone rang.

He knew who it was. Only one person ever called him.

“Hello, dear,” he picked up with a small smile on his face.

“Aziraphale. Angel. Light of my life. My bestest friend in the entire universe. And apparently now, my husband.” Crowley said emotionlessly on the other line.

Aziraphale froze. How on Earth had he found out about that?

“That Newton boy knocked on my door 10 minutes ago. And since you insist I’m nice, I decided to invite him in for a cup of tea. Said he already had a cup at your shop not too long ago. Ah, well, I invite him anyway. We chat for a few minutes. I ask him how everything’s going and he tells me he’s planning on proposing to the witch girl soon. I congratulate the lad, thinking that’ll be the end of that conversation and he’ll leave. But no. The boy asks me what my ideal proposal would be. I tell him I’ve never really thought about. He gives me this confused look and I ask him why he was asking. Well, turns out you told him you somehow proposed to me about 60 years ago without my knowing. And I bet you can imagine my surprise at finding out I’ve been married for over half a century.”

“Crowley, let me explain,” Aziraphale started, anxiety laced in his voice.

“Ah no, I think I’ve figured it out all on my own, angel,” Crowley interrupted. “The boy went to you for proposal tips, thinking you and I are married. And you, being the wonderful angel you are, couldn’t bear to embarrass him and tell him he had it all wrong. So you made up some cheesy story about us thinking that would be the end of it. Am I right?”

Aziraphale didn’t speak for a moment. “Yes.”

He heard Crowley sigh. “You didn’t have to do that, angel.”

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I got nervous. And poor Newt would’ve been so embarrassed if I’d told him the truth. I didn’t think you’d find out.”

Neither of them spoke for a minute.

“We don’t have to act any different,” Aziraphale offered once that minute had become too long.

“Hm?”

“I mean, if Newt thought we were a couple, that must mean everyone else does too, right?”

“I guess.”

“Yes, right then. So that must mean the way we behave right now doesn’t have to change. Since people already think we’re a couple.”

“What are you saying, angel?”

“What I’m saying, Crowley, is that we can just  _ pretend _ we’re a couple. Newt’s not the first to think so, and I doubt he’ll be the last. And I fear it’s too late to correct him. So what’s the harm in pretending?”

“‘What’s the harm in pretending,’ he says. Haha. You’re very funny, angel. You know that?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Besides, he’s probably already told the others about my ‘proposal’. Or he will.”

Crowley sighed again. “Alright. We can pretend to be a couple. But nothing changes, you understand?”

“Yes, my dear. Everything will stay exactly the way it was. And, if it makes you feel any better, we won’t have to keep this up for very long.”

“I still don’t get why you couldn’t just correct Newt,” Crowley grumbled.

Aziraphale shook his head and smiled faintly. “Oh come on,  _ darling _ , it won’t be that bad.”

He heard a faint cough and the phone drop on the other line.

“Crowley? Are you alright?”

“Absolutely tickety-boo. I just choked on a bit of tea. It’s nothing. Oh, Newt’s calling for me. Gotta go, angel. See you around.”

He hung up before Aziraphale could mention the fact that Crowley didn’t drink tea.

And Crowley was decidedly not tickety-boo. 

Pretending to be married? Where on Earth had Aziraphale gotten that idea? 

“What the fuck, angel,” Crowley said to himself as he walked back to the living room, where Newt was flipping through one of the magazines that was on the coffee table.

“Hullo, Mr. Crowley, everything all right?”

Crowley put on his best fake smile. “Oh yes, I just had to call Aziraphale to see if we were still on for dinner tonight.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, what did you want to ask me again, Newt?” He asked as he sat down next to him.

“Well, I just wanted to take a look at this whole proposal thing from the proposée point of view.”

“Ah. alright then. Remind me again what Aziraphale told you about his proposal?”

And so Newt told him what he had been told. That they were in Amsterdam in 1960, visiting the tulip gardens that Crowley had said he’d been wanting to go for a while. And that Aziraphale had just taken him to make him happy, he hadn’t originally planned on proposing. It just seemed like the perfect moment to do so, and so he did. 

Crowley smiled. The two had, in fact, visited Keukenhof before. Not in 1960 like Aziraphale had said, but once about 10 years ago, back when they were trying to squeeze in as much fun as possible just in case the end  _ was _ nigh. Crowley had never said that he’d wanted to go there specifically, at least not out loud, but Aziraphale knew him well enough to know he’d enjoy it. It was touching, and Crowley would be lying if he said he didn’t get the slightest bit emotional behind those dark glasses when Aziraphale had handed him the tickets one day after lunch.

“Mr. Crowley?” Newt said, snapping Crowley out of his thoughts.

“Ah, sorry. I just-”

“Got lost in thought?” Newt smiled.

He nodded.

“That’s very sweet, Mr. Crowley. Mr. Fell did the same thing, actually. When I asked him how the proposal went he got this dreamy look in his eyes and spaced out for a moment.”

“Did he?” Crowley asked, slightly taken aback by that piece of information.

Newt nodded. “You should’ve seen him. He talked about you like you’d hung the stars.”

Crowley flushed at that. “Oh.”

“It’s very obvious you two love each other very much.”

“Yeah. I guess it is.” He looked at the ground.

_ Hung the stars. I guess I did do that, didn’t I? _

“Anyway,” Crowley started, before he could overthink what Newt had told him. “What would you like to know?”

“Everything, sir, if that’s alright with you.”

And so Crowley made something up about how it had rained that day, and how the two had shared an umbrella. He said that it had cleared up by noon and that he had wandered off to admire a lovely arrangement of pink and white flowers. Aziraphale had said he was gonna look for a map, and Crowley had thought nothing of it. And when they finally found each other again, Aziraphale got down on one knee and popped the question.

A half-hour passed with Newt asking questions and Crowley answering them with what he thought would be the right answer.

“Thank you again, Mr. Crowley,” Newt said as the two stood up and walked towards the door. 

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Happy to help. Good luck with the witch girl.”

He closed the door behind Newt and looked around the apartment. A thought struck him.

Crowley groaned and sat on the couch. “Aziraphale. You idiot.”

He phoned him a second later.

“Hullo?”

“Hi, yes, Aziraphale, quick question. You didn’t happen to invite Newt up to your flat when he was over there earlier, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. We just had tea in the backroom. Why?”

“Because,  _ darling _ , married couples usually live together. And it would’ve been a little suspicious if he’d seen you had a flat upstairs.”

Aziraphale was quiet. “Oh dear.”

Crowley nodded, “Uh-huh.”

More silence.

“I’m sorry, Crowley,” Aziraphale said softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t just tell the truth. I never meant to inconvenience you.”

He sighed, “Don’t worry about it. Like you said, barely anything has to change. All you have to do is start spending the night over here. No big deal.”

“Oh.”

“Anyway, let’s get off this whole fake marriage topic. What would you say to dinner tonight? A new Thai place just opened up that I think you’d like.”

Crowley could hear Aziraphale’s grin on the other line.

“I’d love to.”

“Wonderful, it’ll be our first date as husbands,” he teased. 

Aziraphale laughed, “Ah yes, our first date as husbands.”

“I’ll be there at six. And you better ready by the time I get there cause I am  _ not  _ going to wait 20 minutes again for you to find some missing cufflinks.”

“Alright then. I’ll see you at six.”

“Goodbye, angel,” Crowley set the phone down.

Yes. Crowley was fucked.

-

Aziraphale sighed after Crowley hung up.

“Dear Lord, what did I get myself into?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and so the fake marriage part of our au officially begins :-)


	3. Chapter 3

It’s very safe to say that both Aziraphale and Crowley have unresolved feelings towards one another. It’s also safe to say the other has no clue about them.

It’s quite frustrating.

-

Aziraphale paced around the backroom of his bookshop, fidgeting with his cufflinks.

He’d had dinner with Crowley a million times before, and he’d have dinner with him a million more, but he was nervous.

He had no idea why. They’d agreed nothing would change, right? He shouldn’t have any reason to be so nervous.

Oh, but he did. He had quite a big reason to be nervous.

I’m sure you can guess what that reason is.

Aziraphale wasn’t quite sure when he’d developed romantic feelings for Crowley. They seemed to be the one constant in his life, besides Crowley himself, of course. And he couldn’t really remember a time when they _ weren’t _ there. But, he knew they had grown immensely after WWII, when Crowley had saved those books. And him.

The very memory made his heart swell.

Aziraphale groaned and collapsed face down onto the sofa. He muttered incomprehensibly into the cushions for several minutes before sitting up. 

“Oh! Da- argh! Fu- ah! F- fiddlesticks, Aziraphale! Get it together!” He whispered to himself, clutching one of the couch’s throw pillows to his chest. “You’re the one who suggested this! Why are you so antsy? This is dinner! W- with Crowley! You had dinner together just last week! You’ll be fine!”

He looked at the clock on the wall. Crowley would be there in ten minutes.

He took a few deep breaths. Not that he needed to breathe, but it helped calm him down.

“I won’t be fine, though, will I?” he whispered, tone slightly sad. “Last week we were friends, not…”

He shook his head. None of this was real. It was all pretend. Nothing would change, he’d said it himself. He was having dinner with his best friend in ten minutes. That was all. It was dinner with his best friend. No need to make a fuss.

He fell onto the couch again.

-

“Pretend to be married… ‘Pretend,’ he says! Can you believe that? He’s an idiot! An idiot!” Crowley said as he walked into his office. “Go- Sata- somebody! He’s such an idiot!” He sat down in his chair, elbows on his desk, face in his hands. “You’re so stupid, angel,” he muttered.

As stated before, Crowley has some unresolved feelings towards Aziraphale. Like Aziraphale’s, they’re also romantic. Unlike Aziraphale’s, they’ve been threatening to overflow since that day outside the Garden of Eden. 

He sat there for a few minutes, unmoving.

If Crowley didn’t know any better, he’d say Aziraphale was doing all of this to torture him. But he did know better. Aziraphale didn’t have a bad bone in his body, and he’d rather discorporate than make Crowley upset. Plus, Crowley could say with certainty that Aziraphale didn’t have a clue about his feelings. Like he said, he was an idiot.

_ How can someone so intelligent be so stupid? _

He sighed and looked at his watch. He’d have to leave soon to pick up Aziraphale if he didn’t want to be late.

He decided he’d get there five minutes later than planned.

-

Aziraphale was still face down on the sofa when he heard a car honk outside.

Now, this could have been him overthinking things, but Crowley usually stepped inside before they went out.

He glanced at the clock. 6:05. Crowley was… late? That rarely happened.

He told himself he was definitely overthinking. He wasn’t.

He got up from the couch and walked to the door. He stopped just as he grabbed the doorknob and took a deep breath. 

“You can do this, Aziraphale. He’s your best friend. You’re having dinner like always. Put your feelings aside. You’ve kept them tucked away for this long, haven’t you? What’s one more-”

He heard another honk.

“Oh dear,” he stepped outside and locked the door behind him.

“Hello Crowley,” he said as he got into the passenger seat.

“Hello angel,” Crowley responded, looking straight ahead. “Still up for Thai?”

“Hm? Oh! Yes! Thai. Yes, that would be good. Wonderful.”

“Uh huh.”

They drove in silence all the way to the restaurant. Aziraphale didn’t even comment on Crowley’s reckless driving.

They got to the restaurant, stepped inside, and as they sat waiting for their food, Crowley finally decided to address the elephant in the room.

“Angel,” he started.

“Hm?” Aziraphale hummed through his sip of water.

“Are we just gonna pretend you didn’t tell the whole world we’ve been married for 60 years?”

“Newt is _ not _ the whole world.”

“You said he’d tell the others.”

“I’d hardly call the residents of Tadfield the whole world.”

“Aziraphale.”

“Yes?”

Crowley sighed. He fiddled with his napkin for a bit before speaking again. “If we’re gonna keep _ this _ up,” he gestured between the two of them, “we’re going to need to set up some rules.”

“Oh. Yes. I suppose we do. What did you have in mind, dear?”

“Well, I’d imagine the others are going to ask us about the proposal, right?”

Aziraphale nodded.

“So, we need to keep a straight story on how that went.”

“Oh, yes. We do. Um, what did you tell Newt?”

Crowley told him the story he’d given Newt.

“Perfect. I didn’t give him any details that would contradict that.”

“Alright, now that that’s settled,” Crowley paused and took a deep breath. “I know you said nothing had to change, and I would’ve preferred things staying the same, but-”

“We have to act like a couple,” Aziraphale finished for him, looking down at the table.

“Yeah.”

“I’m sorry I got us into this mess, Crowley. I really am sorry.” His tone was sad, one might’ve thought he was on the verge of tears.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley waited until Aziraphale looked at him to continue talking. “Look, it was an honest mistake. You were just trying to help. You didn’t know any of this would happen. You were just being you. You were doing your job. This isn’t your fault. And I’m not angry with you. I don’t think I could ever really be angry with you.”

Their food arrived just as Crowley finished.

“We can talk about this after dinner, alright?” he said softly.

Aziraphale sniffled and nodded.

They ate in silence at first, but eventually slipped into friendly conversation like they always do. For a moment, they forgot all about the faking and talked like usual; Aziraphale describing the latest book he was reading and Crowley listening and making snarky yet playful comments. They talked about Armageddon, heaven and hell, the food, and argued over how Newt would propose.

_ This is how it ought to be_, both of them had thought.

Of course, sooner rather than later, dinner came to an end. They argued over who would pay the bill, Aziraphale insisting he should after all the problems he’d caused that day and Crowley reminding him it was his turn. In the end, Aziraphale ended up winning, but Crowley would tell you it was only because the restaurant was closing soon. Aziraphale left a rather generous tip on the way out while Crowley mumbled something about hell and the minimum wage.

“You up for a walk through St. James?” Crowley asked as they reached the Bentley, sunglasses low on his nose.

“My dear, it’s almost nine o’clock.”

“It’s open till midnight, you know.”

Aziraphale smiled and shook his head. “Oh, alright.”

And so the pair drove to St. James, some of Queen’s softer songs playing on the stereo. It was nice, and they found it easy to forget all the less fortunate events of the day. They were silent, but it was comfortable. Cozy.

Their walk through the park proved to be just as comfortable. Every now and then one would say something, and the other would nod or comment, and then it’d be back to quiet.

Though they would never say it out loud, it was quiet moments like this one that would remind Aziraphale and Crowley just how much they loved one another.

It’s a shame they didn’t say it out loud.

“Crowley.”

“Hm?” Crowley looked up at him.

“You’re allowed to touch me.”

He coughed. “W- what?” he stuttered, feeling heat rising up his cheeks.

“For the arrangement. This whole fake marriage thing. You’re allowed to touch me.”

“Touch you?” he repeated, voice hesitant.

“You know. Hold my hand, hug me, normal couple things. Unless you aren’t comfortable with that, of course.”

“No!” Crowley said a little too quickly. He cleared his throat, “No, that’s alright. I’m okay with it. We can do all that.”

Aziraphale smiled. “Alright. So it’s established we’re allowed to hug and hold hands. Is there anything you don’t think you’d be comfortable with?”

“Dunno.”

“If it came down to it, would I be allowed to kiss you, dear?”

Crowley coughed again. “Jesus Christ.”

“May you be forgiven.”

“How do you even respond to a question like that?”

“Usually with yes or no,” Aziraphale teased.

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes fondly, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

There was a moment of silence before Aziraphale spoke up again.

“It’s alright if you’re not okay with that Crowley, I wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“No, it’s just… weird. I mean, we’ve been friends for 6,000 years, angel. And all of a sudden we’re supposed to act like we’ve been married for 60 of them. It’s all so… new. I’ll just... it’ll take some time getting used to, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

Another moment of walking in silence.

“But yes, if we have to, you can kiss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank u so much for 100 kudos and all ur lovely comments!


End file.
